Page 23 of Awakening the Wild
"Not yet," he said, his voice rougher than usual. "I've been watching you work all day in those jeans, and I'm about to lose my mind."
Heat flooded my system at the hunger in his dark eyes. "Kevin, your brothers are right outside—"
"Then you'd better be quiet," he growled, backing me against the workbench. "Because I'm claiming what's mine right here, right now."
His mouth crashed down on mine with desperate need, his hands gripping my waist and lifting me easily onto the work surface. I wrapped my legs around his hips instinctively, pulling him closer as his tongue invaded my mouth.
"You drive me crazy," he muttered against my throat, his hands already working at the buttons of my flannel shirt. "Working beside me all day, bent over those boards, your perfect ass testing my self-control."
"Then take me," I whispered, surprised by my own boldness. "Right here. Right now."
He groaned at my words, his hands rougher now as he stripped away my shirt and bra. When his mouth found my breast, I bit my lip to keep from crying out as pleasure shot straight to my core.
"That's it, baby," he murmured against my skin. "Stay quiet while I worship this perfect body."
His hands made quick work of my jeans and underwear, leaving me naked and spread across my own workbench while he remained fully clothed. The contrast should have made me feel vulnerable, but instead it made me feel powerful. I could reduce this strong, controlled man to desperate need just by being myself.
"So wet for me," he growled, his fingers finding my slick heat. "Always ready for me, aren't you?"
"Always," I gasped, my head falling back as he worked me expertly. "Kevin, please—"
"Please what?" He added another finger, stretching me deliciously. "Tell me what you need."
"Your cock," I whispered, my cheeks burning with embarrassment and arousal. "I need you inside me."
He freed himself from his jeans with one hand while the other kept me on the edge, his thick length already hard and ready. When he positioned himself at my entrance, I could see the restraint it was taking him to go slow.
"Look at me," he commanded softly. "I want to see your face when I fill you up."
I met his eyes as he pushed inside, inch by thick inch, watching his expression darken with possession as my body stretched to accommodate him. When he was fully seated, we both fought to stay quiet despite the overwhelming sensation.
"My woman, in her cottage that she helped rebuild with her own hands. So fucking proud of you," he growled against my ear, beginning to move with deep, controlled strokes
His words combined with his movements sent me spiraling toward the edge embarrassingly fast. I bit down on his shoulder to muffle my cries as he claimed me thoroughly, marking me as his in the space I'd created for myself.
"Come for me," he whispered, his thumb finding my clit. "Come on my cock like a good girl."
I shattered around him, my inner walls clamping down as waves of pleasure crashed over me. He followed moments later, burying his face in my neck to muffle his own sounds as he emptied himself inside me.
"Christ," he breathed after we'd both caught our breath. "We just christened your workbench."
I laughed, still wrapped around him. "I'll never be able to look at it the same way again."
"Good," he said firmly, pulling back to meet my eyes. "Every time you work in here, I want you to remember who you belong to."
KEVIN
After dinner with my brothers, Tonya and I went back to my home and walked through the maple grove. The trees were tapped and ready for the season's first run, and I was looking forward to showing her this part of my world. But first, I had an important question for her.
I took a deep breath, knowing this conversation could change everything between us. "Move in with me. Officially.”
"Kevin..."
"I know you love the cottage. I know it represents your independence, and I would never ask you to give that up. But my house is bigger, more comfortable. You could keep the cottage as your workshop, your studio, whatever you want. But I need you with me every night even when the cottage is finished."
"Why?"
Admitting why meant revealing the depth of my damage, the extent of my need to control what mattered to me.
